en el zaguán del infierno
Saturday, October 03, 2020
contemporáneos,casi tan viejos como yo, se deleitan en fotografiar puestas de
sol, eclipses lunares y solares, postes de teléfono, sus perros y sus gatos,
esta ciudad en donde viven, con sus pocos rascacielos de noche, y en muchos
casos alegan que las fotos las han tomado (sin filtro) con sus teléfonos “smart”.
A veces en esos pocos días de sol en nuestra lluviosa ciudad se atreven a
fotografiar rosas con sus objetivos macro. Después de varias rosas, para mí, se
ven todas iguales.
imagino estar obligado a ver en una sala obscura estas fotos ad infinitum.
lado no me canso de ver las hermosas caras de las tantas mujeres que me han
posado. Ésta se llama Susan y tiene una cara que parece ser de otro siglo. Hay en
ella una tristeza romántica (¿Existe ese término?).
Tomé la foto
con película Kodak Plus-X en mi Mamiya
RB-67 con un objetivo de 140mm. He escaneado el negativo con una hoja
semi-opaca de plástico para suavizar la imagen.
los escritores/poetas latinoamericanos mi favorito en lo que refiere en
describir a la mujer, está el uruguayo
¿Y si Dios fuera mujer?
pregunta Juan sin inmutarse,
vaya, vaya si Dios fuera mujer
es posible que agnósticos y ateos
no dijéramos no con la cabeza
y dijéramos sí con las entrañas.
Tal vez nos acercáramos a su divina desnudez
para besar sus pies no de bronce,
su pubis no de piedra,
sus pechos no de mármol,
sus labios no de yeso.
Si Dios fuera mujer la abrazaríamos
para arrancarla de su lontananza
y no habría que jurar
hasta que la muerte nos separe
ya que sería inmortal por antonomasia
y en vez de transmitirnos SIDA o pánico
nos contagiaría su inmortalidad.
Si Dios fuera mujer no se instalaría
lejana en el reino de los cielos,
sino que nos aguardaría en el zaguán del
con sus brazos no cerrados,
su rosa no de plástico
y su amor no de ángeles.
Ay Dios mío, Dios mío
si hasta siempre y desde siempre
fueras una mujer
qué lindo escándalo sería,
Friday, October 02, 2020
Olena, she of the formerly blue hair was born in Ukraine and
lived for many years in Colombia. A few years ago she settled down in Vancouver
with her Colombian doctor husband. I have been happily doing cooperative
photographic projects with her. I thought I had run the gamut. I thought we
Olena believes that we must continue, as human beings, to do
what we do without concern if it is important to others or not. She told me
that I had never photographed her outside in the woods. I mentioned that I had
a lack of interest in this as I had started taking figure photography in
beaches and in forests in the late 70 and early 80s. I could not possibly do
anything new. I was wrong.
|Summer Interior - Edward Hopper|
Then I saw Edward Hopper’s Summer Exterior and I was
suddenly inspired. I told Olena to bring a sheet. Her husband Alex (a very good
amateur photographer) offered to be my assistant. And so we had a successful session thanks to
Edward Hopper and Olena’s prodding.
Dana Andrews - The Ultimate Film Noir Actor
Thursday, October 01, 2020
Memories haunt me of the many times I have watched the film Laura and
detective Mark McPherson (played by the dashing-in-a-trench coat Dana Andrews)
and how he falls in love with the woman in the portrait of advertising executive Laura Hunt
(played by Gene Tierney) while investigating her murder. One evening he falls
asleep to find the murdered woman in the living room.
My Rosemary and I have been married 52 years and our
memories are pretty good. In my case I remember most of my boyhood in Buenos
Aires (born in 1942, left in 1954). It would seem that my parents were
innovators in their idea of educating their only son. They took me to a theater
in the round performance of Bertolt Brecht’s Galileo Galilei when I was 8.
And until I left for Mexico in 1954 I saw scads of films
that contained my mother’s favourite actors, Dana Andrews, Jean Tierney, Rex
Harrison, Katharine Hepburn, Ava Gardner, Spencer Tracy, Dolores del Río, Henry
Fonda, Leslie Howard, Humphrey Bogart, Gary Cooper, Kirk Douglas, Burt
Lancaster, Frederick March, Orson Welles, Gregory Peck, and Richard Widmark.
How was I to know then that many of the films I saw on movie
row in Buenos Aires’s Calle Lavalle were film noirs? Only now would I tell Eddie
Muller that one of the finest film noirs has to be John Ford’s 1947 film The Fugitive based on a Graham Green
Novel (The Power and the Glory) with
Henry Fonda, Dolores del Ría AND that Mexican actor (noir personified) Pedro Armendáriz and with camera work by the
fabulous Gabriel Figueroa as cinematographer.
But there were two films that were dear to my mother’s
heart, Laura and The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (Rex Harrison and Gene Tierney). It was in
the latter film that as a boy I first discovered that dastardly villain George
I have seen The Best
Years of Our Lives so many times and every time I see it there is something
new that I notice (Teresa Wright is an a late example) that I have come to the
conclusion that no matter what anybody can say about Dana Andrews’s drinking
problem he is film noir, and principally because nobody can wear that trench
coat and a fedora like he does and there is that almost Gregory
Peck-taciturn-look on his face. His voice fits the man.
Once I can remember listening in my car a Beethoven
bagatelle so lovely that I parked my car and called the pianist of the
Vancouver Symphony to tell her about it. Linda Lee Thomas then said this,”Ah, to hear something for the first time.”
I have not seen this Saturday’s (Vancouver at 9PM on TCM)
film with the Laura pair, Where the
Ah to see something for the first time!
In Spring of 1986 I had the luck to be assigned by a
Vancouver publication to photograph Vincent Price. I had my camera and lights
in a corner during the press conference. He saw me and my lights. He came over
and sat down. I told him that one of my favourite films of all time was Laura
(he is in it) and another is the Fall of
the House of Usher (blood seeped through the walls!). He was gracious and
gave me ample time to snap his picture with my big camera.